Read Online High-Stakes Affair by Gail Barrett - Free Book Online Page B

be his only chance to question the coroner about his sister’s death.
    “What’s wrong?” Paloma asked when he reached the bike.
    “Nothing yet.” But trouble was approaching fast. He pulled on his helmet and climbed aboard. “Let’s go see that coroner.”
    But as he kicked the bike into gear, a heavy sense of foreboding weighted his gut. He hoped to hell he wasn’t heading into a trap.
    They reached Isaac Morel’s residence a short time later. The coroner lived in a three-story building located in the heart of the ancient city, amid a warren of tangled lanes. His office was on the bottom floor.
    Dante drove past the residence, scanning the surrounding buildings for signs of a stakeout, then headed up another lane.
    “Where are you going?” Paloma asked, leaning closer against his back.
    “I want to check out the area first.” He cut through a nearby alley and circled around the block, puttering past a man hosing off the sidewalk and a delivery truck at a bar unloading beer. A stray dog trotted past, rooting in the gutters for trash.
    Just a typical sleepy morning in País Vell.
    So why was this damned premonition of danger warning him to stay away?
    Shifting his motorcycle down a gear, he approached the coroner’s office again. Still clear. Knowing he couldn’t keep circling forever, he steered into the alley behind the neighboring building and stopped. They both climbed off, and he pushed the bike behind a Dumpster, angling it for a fast escape. A late-model Fiat occupied the space by the coroner’s back door.
    Dante removed his helmet, another wave of urgency filling him with doubts. But no one knew their plans. It would take the guards time to reach this street. They could talk to Morel, get the information they needed, and leave long before the guards showed up.
    Paloma led the way around the building to the front door. Dante hung back, keeping a wary eye on the street as she rang the bell.
    No one answered.
    She hit the buzzer again, then shot him a questioning look. “What do you think? Should we try the back? Maybe he can’t hear the bell.”
    “All right.” This time, Dante took the lead. He strode back into the alley, went up to the door and knocked. When the coroner still didn’t answer, he tried the knob.
    It turned.
    His heart sped up.
    Paloma sent him a startled glance. “That’s odd.”
    “Yeah.” His sense of trepidation rising, he pushed open the door and entered a narrow hall. A now familiar stench stopped him cold.
    Holding out his arms, he blocked Paloma’s path.
    “Oh, no,” she whispered from behind him. “Not again.”
    “Yeah.” Another dead body. What the hell was going on? “You should wait outside.”
    “No. I need to see this.” Covering her nose with her sleeve, she scooted around him, prompting a reluctant spurt of respect. For a pampered princess, she didn’t shirk unpleasant tasks.
    His nerves clamoring harder, he trailed her through the unlit hallway to a narrow kitchen and paused to glance inside. Dirty dishes crowded the sink. A wheel of cheese stood on a small wooden table, next to an open bottle of wine. Isaac Morel’s last meal?
    They continued down the hallway, the wooden floor creaking beneath their feet. Then they entered the coroner’s office, a dark, dusty room with file cabinets and cardboard boxes crammed like beehives throughout the space. An old-fashioned pendulum clock hung above the desk, its loud ticks drawing his gaze. It read the correct time—meaning Morel had wound it recently. The coroner couldn’t have been dead for long.
    The front parlor adjoined the office. Paloma preceded him into the room, then abruptly stopped. Trying not to inhale the stench, Dante checked to make sure the shutters covered the windows and flicked on the overhead light. His gaze shot to the body on the floor.
    He swallowed hard.
    Like Lucía and César Gomez, the coroner lay in a sea of blood. Steeling himself to walk closer, Dante catalogued the grotesque